


But If I Did, You'd Be The One

by Newt_salamander



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: I feel like everyone has at least one stairs scene fic, M/M, Odd verb tense, Stairs scene but Curt dies, Stream of Consciousness, Suicide, well this one is the product of me not wanting to face my emotional turmoil, yes I wrote this instead of sleeping who do you think I am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newt_salamander/pseuds/Newt_salamander
Summary: Act one, scene six.Curt thinks everything is too much.Spies shouldn't be able to carry guns.
Relationships: Cynthia Houston & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	But If I Did, You'd Be The One

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm back at it again with sad spies and me not beta-ing this. Title from gun song by the lumineers.

Owen's eyes bore into his skull so hard that Curt couldn't tell if the heat he was feeling was rage or embarrassment. In all honesty, Curt was surprised he could feel anything. He had declared himself numb after the first 24 hours of seeing Owen -- _love of his life Owen, forever and always Owen--_ alive. In his eyes, it was easier to pretend you were feeling nothing rather than letting yourself feel everything. 

"That secret died the night you left me for dead." 

Owen's voice shook. Curt knew that that was a sign the man he loved was still hiding somewhere in there. He could still win. But, God. Curt was tired. He really was. Four years feeling nothing but sorrow and pity, only to be told (quite coldly, might he add) that it was all for naught. 

"Clearly." The next words Owen said were not registered, Curt only looked at the ground. The ground was far too rough for his taste. It had a dirty feel to it, and Curt always liked cleaner things. It was grey, but the moonlight tinted it blue. In another world, it would have been quite beautiful. He let his wandering thoughts overtake him, the tight feeling in his chest making it hard to breathe. He faintly hears the click of a gun, and he thinks that's what does it. The realization that any realistic outcome to this standoff would lead to pain. The sensible part of his mind screams _what about Tati_ , but he waves it off. Curt Mega will always be tied to Owen Carvour. Curt Mega means nothing, and never did without Owen Carvour to balance him out. To give him reassuring compliments and to scream at him coldly. Owen still hasn't shot him, so he decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs his gun and quickly disarms his former lover, the one who taught him how to perfect his aim for this sort of stuff. The irony of it all was too bitter, too distant. 

"Listen, Mega." 

The use of Curt's last name had to mean something, but his hands were shaking and Curt decided he didn't care what it meant.

"I don't know if you can get this through your thick head, but I mean nothing in Chimera's grand scheme. You can strike me down, but it's not going to matter." 

His voice cracked again, this time sounding more like desperation than grief. Curt's hands had yet to steady, but they were slowly moving the gun to a position under his jaw. 

"This bullet isn't for you, Owe."

The look on Owen's face is priceless. His eyes widen, and Curt swears he sees tears forming. His mouth looks like it wants to say something, but closed. He looks Curt up and down, then finally decides to speak.

"I've known you long enough. You'd rather me die than put a bullet in your brain. You're selfish and careless, Curt Mega. You're not going to do this."

It's Owen reassuring himself, not threatening Curt. He has half the mind to laugh at it all, but he cocks the gun instead. 

"After all this time, I thought you might have actually loved me. But maybe not. Maybe you're just as selfish as I am." 

Curt releases the trigger and the emotion he feels next is near indescribable. He feels pain, he knows that one. He also feels regret, but Curt assumes that is a normal reaction. Most of all, Curt feels peaceful. He shouldn't, considering it all. Yet, he does. Owen's scream of anguish doesn't escape Curt's failing senses, and it's the last thing he smiles about before everything goes silent.

* * *

Curt falls to the ground and Owen's mind fills with so many thoughts he has to drop down onto the stairwell. Curt is laying there, the blood still pouring from the hideous hole under his chin, fragments of shattered jaw and pieces of tounge littering the area. Owen should be used to this gruesome scene, _he was a murderer after all_ , but Curt's lovely face in that state makes it feel brand new. He slowly crawls his way to Curt's side.

"Curt? Curt, darling. Curt, this isn't funny!" He spits out, like there was any way Curt could fake shooting himself in the head. 

"Curt, I'm sorry! Please just come back. I love you, I love you and I have a-and I always will please, please, please," his rambling becomes incoherent, and he buries his face in Curt's jacket. It once was his jacket, but it never really fit right. So, he gave it to Curt, who wore it so much better than he ever could. The jacket was soaked with blood now, _Curt's_ blood. The nausea hits Owen. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it's supposed to end. The hero always wins and the villain always loses. Owen was the villain. Of course he was, he's been nothing but evil even since the fall. Ever since Chimera. 

Christ, Chimera. 

He has to get out of there, or his fate would be worse then Curt's. He reluctantly wills his legs to stand up, to leave Curt's side. 

He shouldn't bring Curt's body with him, but he does. 

He brings Curt's body with him and he leaves it on the steps of Cynthia Houston's headquarters. He doesn't know what else to do, to be honest. He knows it's cruel, but so is any other option. Owen wishes he hadn't stayed (out of sight, of course) to watch Cynthia receive his package. Her reaction is gut-wrenching. Her usual annoyed demeanor falters when she stares down at the man who she had undermined and insulted for seven years. Her cigarette drops to the ground, and she bends down to touch his face. She stays like that for a minute, some of her colleagues daring to give her frightened glances. Then, Cynthia stood up and clears her throat. 

"Susan, clean up on isle four." She calls, and walks off. Owen thinks he sees a tear fall as she walks away. 

Owen doesn't know what reactions the rest of Curt's loved ones had. He's too busy sitting in an old MI6 safehouse, thinking about a dead man. He thinks about far more than that dead man, of course. He thinks about agencies and spies and secrets. He thinks about orders and bananas and bullets lodged in people's heads. Ok, maybe he lied. Maybe he is thinking about just that dead man. Sue him. 

Chimera tries to get in contact, and Owen's smart enough to check in. He says he's 'planning something new' and he'll 'meet up soon' but it's all a lie. Owen just smokes and drinks and regrets. That's all he ever does now. He can hear the ghost of Curt Mega laughing at him for his hypocrisy. Unfortunately, unlike the blasted man, Owen doesn't wallow in grief for long. He just grabs his gun and starts shooting. This time Owen has a different target. Chimera. He tells himself it's for what they did to him, but he knows it's for what they did to Curt. 

What _he_ did to Curt.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow ok so I killed Curt. Not too proud of this one, but it's here anyway! As usual, please comment, it fuels my satanic rituals


End file.
